


Life and Limb

by ChocolateChipMaster



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst Aplenty, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Every chapter is a new character POV, Every chapter is a new injury, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Hunk (Voltron) Angst, Hunk (Voltron) Whump, Hurt Hunk (Voltron), Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Inspired by Fanart, Inspired by really good art!!, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Like really extensive injuries, Link is in the notes, Pidge | Katie Holt Angst, Pidge | Katie Holt Whump, Platonic Relationships, Set through multiple seasons, Shiro (Voltron) Angst, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron) Whump, Team as Family, Team-Centric, This is rough guys, but only light references, each chapter is vaguely related to each other, injuries, near-death situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-06-24 14:57:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15633027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateChipMaster/pseuds/ChocolateChipMaster
Summary: Being a soldier had its perks, but it also had its fair share of hardships. You had to be willing to give up anything - even your own life.Or the four times the Paladins risked life and limb to save the universe, and the one time they were almost too late.





	1. The Team Needs You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an incredible artwork/comic that can be found [here](http://duskisnigh.tumblr.com/post/166654487654/live-soldier-live)
> 
> I tried to link back to the original artist, just to give them and their incredible art some love. If I linked the wrong person, please let me know! 
> 
> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The underside of Lance’s arms were slippery with blood. His breaths were coming out in short raspy gasps, his lungs filled with fire. His legs were trembling, every step backward sending a fresh flare of pain up through his ribs. His injuries were minor though, a blip on the scale next to Shiro’s.

A shock of black hair tilted backward, mouth agape in a scream that had never quite passed his lips. Shiro’s eyes were closed, his cheeks scuffed and a light bruising appearing just under his chin. Blood seeped from a wound in bitten into his side, leaving a horribly grisly trail across the thick marble floor.

 _We shouldn’t have come here,_ Lance thought, vomit catching in his throat as he risked another glance at Shiro’s horrendous injury. _We should not have come here…_

It was supposed to be something simple. An agricultural group of aliens that were about three feet tall, purple, and had hands sprouting out of the top of their heads had contacted Team Voltron about a possible alliance. Lance and Shiro had been sent down, treating the mission as some sort of team bonding exercise.

Everything had been going well, until the realized that the aliens weren’t as pure-hearted as they were thought to be. In fact, they seemed to be the apex predators of this galaxy, luring travelers in with promises of fresh-cut vegetables only for the tourists to become the food. Lance and Shiro, despite being Voltron Paladins, were no different.

Shiro and Lance had made a break for the lions, fighting off strange purple aliens at every turn. Lance _thought_ Shiro was okay. He _thought_ his leader would be right behind him.

But he wasn’t.

They had run into a temple overgrown with weeds and foliage. The marble was cracked, sunflowers and lilies peeking out through the cracks. It must have been an impressive shrine back in its prime days, but now it was only a sad reminder of days long past. Lance had only ducked into it because he remembered passing through it on the way to the village. The Lions were somewhere in the dense forest that grew in tangles beyond the crumbling walls. They were in the home stretch. 

Lance had turned around to ask Shiro about his status but stopped short. Shiro was slumped on the ground, collapsed with his hands curled protectively around an obvious bite wound in his side. Lance had rushed to Shiro immediately, only to see that his leader was unconscious. How long ago had he been bitten? How had he hidden it so well?

Guilt pooled into Lance’s stomach as he looped his arms underneath Shiro’s armpits and pulled. Lance - with his greatest strength being tall and lanky, with no real muscles to account for - was unable to drag him too far.

A great smear of red marked their trail. Shiro was losing so much blood, far too much. Any more and he was going to die.

_Die._

_Die, die, die._

The concept wasn’t foreign to Lance. He faced the possibility of it every single day since he’d launched everyone into space. He understood his crucial place in restoring balance to the universe, perhaps better than most people thought.

But Shiro...Shiro had always seemed _untouchable._

He’d survived more than Lance or the other Paladins would ever know. He’d gone up to pilot a team to the farthest known reaches of the galaxy, only to be proclaimed as missing and called a failure for crashing his ship. A year later, he defied all logic and returned, crash landing in an alien pod with his right arm replaced with a cyborg prosthetic.

Lance knew that Shiro suffered from nightmares. He heard it from the hushed conversations between him and Keith when they thought nobody could hear. He heard it from Pidge, who hardly slept herself, and had caught Shiro wandering the castle more than once, with a haunted look in his eyes.

Shiro couldn’t just _die._ Not like this. He just _couldn’t._

Lance pulled again fruitlessly on Shiro’s armpits. He moved a small inch, but Lance was suffering from a few blows himself. His legs had exerted all the energy they had between running and dragging Shiro across the plant-riddled temple. Hot tears pooled into Lance’s eyes. If only he’d been more attentive. He should have noticed that Shiro was injured immediately after he was bitten.

But he _didn’t._

“Shiro,” Lance’s gasp was hot and burned his chest. He tugged again, his legs nearly giving out at the exertion. He reached out desperately to feel Blue, and she pressed back into his mind. They were close. They _had to be._ “Shiro, please wake up. Please, please…you can’t die, the team _needs you._ ” He took another unsteady step backward, his head now buried in Shiro’s armored shoulder. He smelled like sweat and freshly cut grass, a hint of his musky cologne still detectable through it all. There was a metallic scent there too; one that made Lance’s stomach curl in protest and bile practically claw its way up his throat.

Lance’s legs gave out at the next tug. His knees hit the ground first with a loud thunk of his armor. The collision definitely would have hurt more if he didn’t have the knee-pads, but Lance didn’t think about that. He didn’t think about the aching in his shoulder blades, the fire racing up through his spine, and stitch in his side.

Instead, his thoughts remained solely on his dying leader.

“Shiro,” he gasped, sucking in deep amounts of oxygen with each shaky breath. His fingers trembled on Shiro’s shoulders, white armor turned red from all the blood. Shiro’s head lolled, landing with a quiet thump against Lance’s shoulder. “Shiro, please, I-I can’t…” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t _walk_ anymore Shiro. I can’t carry you, I-I _can’t.”_

Lance’s voice broke. He reached out to Blue again, pouring all the desperation and fear he could into their bond. He sent her mental images of Shiro’s wound, the blood, and hoped somehow she’d pass the message onto Black. Lance knew the Lions were sentient enough to sense when their Paladins were in danger. Keith and Red were a prime example of that, the Lion abandoning the team in order to rescue her Paladin from certain doom the _crowning_ event in many of their missions.

“Sh-Shiro...” his voice was hoarse and raspy. Tears dripped onto Shiro’s armor, mingling with the blood splattered on the pristine surface. _“Por favor._ Open your eyes…I-I can’t...I can’t do this alone…”

 _But you must,_ a traitorous voice in the back of Lance’s head told him. It was right, no matter how much he tried to deny it. Lance had no _choice._ He had to pull Shiro back to the Lions and get him back to the Castle _before_ he bled out, which wouldn’t take long with how much time Lance was wasting here.

Lance hefted his arms under Shiro’s again and _pulled_ forcing his aching legs to move. It would definitely leave a harsh burn in his calves in the morning, but that pain would be nothing compared to losing Shiro. Blue sent strength and reassurances in the form of a deep purr through their bond. She believed in him. He’d get him back to the Castle alive.

Lance pulled again. Every step he took backward made his knees buckle and the stitch in his side worsen. Scissors bit into his lung with every sharp gasp. Shiro was at least one hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle, and the heavy armor certainly wasn’t helping his case.

Lance wished he had something on hand to block the blood flow. Some kind of bandages or a portable first-aid kid. Maybe he should have brought the one in Blue's cockpit or at least his _helmet_  so he could contact the team _._ The air was breathable, so Lance hadn’t had the foresight to bring it with him, deciding instead to communicate with the team only to inform them of their success.

The mission was supposed to be _easy,_ after all.

Another strangled pant left Lance’s lips. He was now dragging Shiro over stairs that had been weathered away. Cracks spidered across the marble, tufts of grass growing in patches through them. Lance stepped carefully over them, trying to keep his footing as even as possible. If he even jostled Shiro a little, the bite wound would spew scarlet, rivulets of blood gushing over the hole in Shiro’s armor.

Lance step backward, his foot landing unevenly on a stone the size of his fist. He let out an alarmed yelp, his ankle rolling as he crashed to the floor. His head collided with the crumbling dais sending stars across his vision. He dropped Shiro, who landed with a horrifying _squelch_ on the bite wound.

Shiro’s eyes flew open and he flat out _screamed._

It was hoarse and horrible, cutting into Lance _deep._ He flinched, foregoing the urge to feel the back of his head for the inevitable bump and instead scramble forward to check on Shiro.

“Sh-Shiro-!” He gasped out, hot tears still tracking down his face. Shiro’s dark eyes were half-lidded, dull and clouded with pain. He sought Lance out, his fingers now curled around the wound. Blood seeped from in between his shoulders. “I am so sorry, I-”

“Lance?” Shiro murmured. He sounded confused, like he didn’t quite recognize him. “E-Everything is-” He coughed wetly. Lance was relieved that no blood bubbled up to slide down his chin. “I can’t see very well…” Shiro finished weakly. “My head is killing me and...I can’t...everything’s blurry…”

 _Side-effects of blood loss,_ Lance thought grimly, wiping desperate tears from his eyes. He staggered toward Shiro on unsteady legs, reaching out to loop his arms underneath his leader’s armpits again. Shiro let out an uneasy groan and Lance’s stomach curled in on itself in the ground.

“ _Lo siento,”_ he murmured, pulling. His spine creaked in protest, his calves returning to the burn they had been before. “I-I’m trying to get back to the Lions and-and I dropped you. I’m sorry this is…” He hiccuped back a sob.

“The Lions…” Shiro repeated, almost absent-mindedly. His head fell forward, his chin touching his chest plate. The Voltron insignia on the front was smeared with red from Lance’s own hands, desperately pulling Shiro over the rest of the dais. Shiro didn’t speak anymore after that, shutting his eyes and going limp.

Lance’s heart skipped a beat and he reached up to wipe his tears away again. He left a trail of red on his cheek, the blood almost smearing into his eyes. He had to focus. No more crying, no more panicking. Shiro took top priority now.

Lance took another unsteady step backward, glancing behind him to see how far the crumbling back wall was. It was too far still, and Lance was sure he wasn’t going to get Shiro to a pod in time. He needed the Lions to come to him - otherwise, Shiro was going to _die._

Lance squeezed his eyes shut. He reached out to Blue, feeling her purr in answer. A silent question passed through their bond.

_Can you do it?_

Lance remembered Keith saying that it not only took a strong bond, but an incredible will to call the Lion to you. Every time he had been saved, he’d reached out to the Red Lion and practically begged her for help.

Lance knew what he had to do.

 _Please,_ he thought. _Please, save us. Save Shiro._

For one horrible beat, Lance didn’t feel anything. Blue’s presence pulled back, as if deliberating, and she didn’t return for far too long to be comfortable. Lance sobbed dryly again, the noise cutting a burning line through his aching chest. This was it. Shiro was going to _die_ now because of him and-

A roar shook the ground. The marble trembled beneath him as two distinct shapes broke through the ceiling of the temple. Relief flooded Lance and he let out a happy cry, tears tracking their way down his cheeks anew. He activated his shield to protect Shiro from the falling debris as the Black Paladin opened one eye to observe the situation. The lions had _answered._

Blue and Black landed with heavy thuds, cracking the temple floor further. Lance stood there, in awe of them for a moment. Black reared her head, regarding her injured Paladin and lowered her jaw, opening it for Shiro.

“B-Black…” Shiro whispered, reaching out with one blood-stained hand. Lance glanced between him and the lion and realized with a return of the aching in his spine and the burning in his calves that his mission wasn’t quite over yet.

He stood up, looped his arms underneath Shiro’s armpits again and pulled him back to his lion.

 

Shiro was in a pod for more than a week.

Lance had stayed nearby the whole time, almost obsessively keeping watch over the vitals. He was there when Shiro came out too, watching as Keith caught the Black Paladin in his arms, a tender smile on his lips. Shiro was been disoriented, his hand moving to brush his side, looking for a phantom wound.

“It’s gone,” Keith’s gaze snapped to the movement almost instantly. “You lived.”

Shiro blinked a few times, looking quite surprised. “What?”

“Lance…” Keith’s amethyst eyes snapped to him. “Lance saved you.”

Shiro turned to Lance with a smile on his lips and words of gratitude but Lance brushed them off. He didn’t feel like a hero, not with how much time he had wasted crying and desperately trying to assess the situation instead of grounding himself and actually _asking_ Blue for help.

“I didn’t do anything,” Lance said honestly. “It was the lions.”

“You heard what I said before, right?” Keith said, leading Shiro to sit down. “It takes a lot to call them to you. It exhausts me just to call one, and I’m her Paladin. You called _two._ That’s pretty impressive.” 

Lance’s lips twitched into a smile. “I guess.” Keith snorted and Shiro lifted his head to lock his gaze with Lance’s. 

“Thank you,” he said again. “I...would have died if it weren’t for you.” 

“I couldn’t just let you die,” Lance said. He folded his arms, remembering the seemingly endless amounts of blood that had seeped from Shiro’s wound. The image made him shiver and he wondered if he’d ever truly be rid of it. 

“I appreciate it,” Shiro said honestly. “I...owe you my life, Lance.” 

“Well,” Lance bit his lip. A horrible feeling settled in his stomach, weighing on him like a brick. “We’re soldiers. I don’t think this is the last time something like this is going to happen.” Shiro looked a bit pensive at the words, but he knew them to be true just as much as Lance did. This wasn’t the first, nor the last, time something like this would happen. They were soldiers, chosen to be that way by the Lions they now piloted. Someone would almost die again. Someone  _ could  _ die. 

“Yeah,” Shiro whispered. His voice was quiet and he leaned back on his prosthetic hand to stop the world from spinning. “You’re right. It’s not the last time.” 

And it wasn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the start of a new VLD project that will be updating on Fridays! Five chapters long, following the '[insert number here] of times this happened and the one time it didn't' format. This was inspired by some truly incredible fanart shown above, so please give the artist some love! 
> 
> I hope I wrote everything okay and it doesn't feel rushed! I was really exhausted while writing this and just wanted to curl up and take a nap. Editing was even harder, so I might have missed something. Point it out, if you can! I hate rereading stuff later and finding out it had a typo...
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Leave a comment/kudos if you did, I absolutely adore feedback and it means the world to me! 
> 
> You can find my Tumblr [here](https://chocolatechip-master.tumblr.com/) so if there's a certain one-shot/topic that you want me to write, just throw an ask into my inbox! :D


	2. They Need You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was still turning his head, a smile on his lips and congratulations in order when Pidge let out a cry of pain. Shiro snapped to attention immediately, watching the enormous arm of a sentry sinking into her gut. Pidge flew backward into the wall closest to them, her head smashing hard against it. Her eyelids fluttered, cracks spidering across the surface of her visor from the collision. Shiro let out a horrified scream.
> 
>  
> 
> _“Pidge!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Shiro hunched over behind a wall, listening to the song of gunfire beyond. Pidge sat next to him, her wild amber hair in tangles, and a white flash drive held tightly in her fist. She had her free hand on her bayard, squeezing the handle.

Shiro placed his palms squarely on the floor and pushed up, risking a glance over their hiding spot. As soon as he showed his face, purple lasers shot over his head and into the opposing wall. He cursed softly, ducking back down and pressing his back to the cold wall.

“We’re pinned down,” he spoke into the comms, trying to remain calm. “Can anyone provide backup?”

“We’re-” Lance grunted. There a distant explosion that shook the Galra base. “We’re kind of busy here!” His sentence was further punctuated by an alarmed scream that belonged to Hunk. Keith swore loudly.

“Another Galra cruiser incoming!”

“Quiznack!” Lance shouted.

Shiro winced at their panicked voices. The supposedly sparsely guarded Galra base had turned into a war zone in a matter of seconds. Pidge had gotten some intel on her family from this location and had practically begged to organize a mission. Shiro only relented because the planet was nearby and they were running out of leads.

Shiro tucked his arms into his stomach as he risked another glance. Another laser singed his hair, colliding with the far wall. He wasn’t sure he or Pidge could take much more of this. His armor was already compromised, bits cracked and blackened by the few lasers that had managed to connect. Pidge had suffered far fewer wounds, but she looked exhausted from all the running. Dark bags hung under her eyes and she held the flash drive so tightly in her fist Shiro was afraid it would break and they’d get out with nothing to show for it.

Another laser pelted into their hiding spot and Shiro winced instinctively. He glanced at Pidge, who met his gaze with steely determination.

“We’re going to have to cut a path through them,” he said. “You up for that?” Pidge nodded, pocketing her flash drive, and Shiro found himself envying her strength. Were he in her shoes, he would have liked nothing more than to avoid confrontation at all costs, just so they could get out without exhausting himself further. He gave her a smile. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” the bayard in Pidge’s had hummed to life. Her katar burst into existence, the top crackling with electricity.

Shiro flexed his prosthetic arm, wiggling the fingers experimentally. There was a familiar whirr of Galra machinery before the arm burst to life in a shower of purple. He turned his attention to the sentries slowly advancing on his position and lunged.

The first sentry tried to meet him head-on, strike-for-strike, but Shiro was faster. He ducked underneath the wild swinging arm and cut a searing path through the metal, wires snapping and melting under his hand. The sentry collapsed into a pile of broken machinery.

Shiro leapt onto the next sentry, a laser from its gun barely missing his head. He met it, sinking his hand deep into its gut, his free hand yanking hard on the shoulder to pull it to his height. The action may have seemed gruesome, but Shiro held no sympathy for the machines. He had to get Pidge and himself out, preferably as uninjured as possible.

Another laser skimmed his side and Shiro hissed, phantom pain bursting from a wound that was no longer there. He gritted his teeth, trying to ward off the images of purple aliens sinking their teeth into his skin and pulling. Instead, he punched a sentry so hard its metal head went flying off, kicking its remains into its comrades and toppling them over.

Pidge darted past him, flicking her wrist neatly. The katar’s line extended, embedding itself in the chest of a sentry. A surge of electricity followed; the sentry convulsed and collapsed, smoke heaving from inside. Without skipping a beat, Pidge jumped over the body and pelted forwards, Shiro hot on her tail. The other sentries clunked along behind them, fire from their guns whistling over their heads.

They took a sharp turn, Pidge taking the initiative with the map she had from the holo-pad at her wrist. She kept her gaze down, watching their progress. Shiro kept glancing behind them, watching the sentries behind them as they all tromped down an adjacent hallway. His shoulders slumped in clear relief. They’d lost them, at least for now. Now, all they had to do was escape.

But letting his guard down was Shiro’s first mistake.

He was still turning his head, a smile on his lips and congratulations in order when Pidge cried out in pain _._ Shiro snapped to attention immediately, watching the enormous arm of a sentry sinking into her gut. Pidge flew backward into the wall closest to them, her head smashing hard against it. Her eyelids fluttered, cracks spidering across the surface of her visor from the collision. Shiro let out a horrified scream.

_“Pidge!”_

Pidge twitched at the sound of her name but didn’t do much else. Horrible scenarios of the possible wounds Pidge could have suffered flooded Shiro’s consciousness. He was only brought back to reality by the incoming elbow into his jaw.

He stumbled backward, lifting his head to meet the sentry, who stared him down the purple lights flaring from its lenses. Shiro worked his aching jaw, fixing the sentry with the hardest glare he could manage. His fingers trembled with rage, his arm sparking at his side. The sentry moved again to follow up with another attack, but Shiro caught it’s arm and  _twisted._

Machinery and metal snapped under Shiro’s metal grip. He gave a mighty yank and with a sickening pop, the arm came clean off, wires sparking at the edges. He launched another punch and the sentry fell, crashing gracelessly to the ground. Its visor flickered once, then went sightless.

Shiro spun around, fixing his gaze on the small Paladin crumpled against the wall. Blood was marking a horrible trail down her chin, dripping steadily onto her armor. Shiro’s stomach protested at the sight.

“Pidge-” his voice sounded strangled to his own ears. Shiro stumbled towards her, dropping to his knees with a heavy thud. He gathered Pidge into his arms and her head lolled, falling backward over his arm. Her eyes were closed, shadowed by the shattered glass of her visor. Her breath was shallow and quick, skin clammy and flushed a dull red.

Shiro pressed his hand to the impact point and Pidge let out a whimper. Blood bubbled up between her teeth, spilling out through her mouth. Shiro choked.

 _Internal bleeding,_ he thought grimly. _Concussion too. Not good…_

“Pidge,” Shiro forewent the instinct to call the team to tell them of what happened, instead choosing to ensure Pidge’s consciousness. She let out a quiet moan of pain and Shiro tightened his grip on her wrist. “ _Katie.”_

Amber eyes blinked open, fixing him with a tired stare. Her gaze darted all over his face, taking in every little detail. Shiro tried to hide his relief as he pressed his fingers to the underside of her wrist. Her pulse fluttered wildly against his fingers. It was far too fast to be considered normal.

“Yeah, yeah it’s me,” Shiro hooked his arm under Pidge’s legs and tucked the other around her shoulders. He lifted her into the air and her arms twitched at the movement. She still hung limply though, resting her small head against Shiro’s chest.

“It...hurts,” she whined. Her voice was weak.

“I know,” Shiro whispered. “I know, but we’re on our way out. Where do we go?” Hoping he was in the home stretch, he set off at a brisk pace down the hallway. Not too fast that he jostled the Paladin in his arms, but quick enough that he would get out before she bled out internally.

“Dizzy…” Pidge murmured in his arms. Her eyes fluttered shut and she let out a shallow gasp.

“Hey,” Shiro tried to keep the panic out of his voice. “Hey, don’t close your eyes, okay? I need you to stay awake.”

Pidge looked up at him, blinking slowly. “’M tired though…”

“I know,” Shiro felt so anxious he was nearly about to throw up. He moved his feet as fast as he dared, the hallways flickering into that of a Galra prison ship, the instinct of _get out Shiro, now while you still can_ growing stronger and stronger with every second. He fought off the sudden surge of adrenaline, knowing that now absolutely wasn’t the time to let his memories get the best of him.

_Run, Shiro, run._

Shiro gritted his teeth, glancing back at Pidge. Her head had lolled, shadowing her eyes with her visor. He couldn’t tell whether she was awake or asleep at this angle.

“Stay awake, Katie,” he spoke, glancing down the hallway. A familiar door stood at the exit. If all went according to plan, Keith would be waiting for them in Red just beyond the door. “You can’t fall asleep, you hear me?”

Pidge hummed in response. Shiro’s throat tightened. It was hard to breathe.

“You have new intel now,” He tried to get her to start thinking. “Some more stuff on Matt and your father. You gotta stay awake so we can decode it back at the castle, okay?” Pidge’s lips moved, mouthing her brother’s name, but it was silent. Blood continued sickeningly down from her open mouth and she let out another congested cough. Instead of phlegm, though, more blood spewed from her lips.

Shiro bit down so hard on his lip he was afraid he’d break the skin and picked up his pace. The door was too far, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling.

_Run, Shiro, run._

“They need you,” Shiro found himself saying next. Pidge lifted her chin weakly to stare at him, her eyes half-lidded.

“What…?”

“Matt and your father,” Shiro said for clarification. Desperation he was trying to hide was now leaking into his tone as he met Pidge’s gaze. “He needs you, Katie. He needs you to stay awake.”

“Matt…Dad...” Pidge repeated her their names under her breath like a mantra. Shiro turned his body to shoulder the door open as they approached, dashing out into the open. The planet’s air was thick and humid and every breath was hard to take in. It was like breathing in pure hot air and trying to use that as a substitute for clean oxygen.

Pidge let out a strangled gasp. More scarlet oozed from the corner of her mouth, matting in her hair. Auburn locks stuck together, strung by sticky blood. Shiro tried not to look at it and instead broke into a jog. While the air was reasonably breathable by human standards, when you were bleeding internally it was a whole different story.

Shiro activated his comms. “Pidge and I need immediate evac. Keith, where are you?”

“Busy!” Keith grunted. There was an explosion high above and a red streak went flying from into the air, colliding with the rocks with an earth-shattering boom. Keith swore through his choked cry of pain. Shiro glanced down at Pidge again. She continued to whisper her brother’s name under her breath like a prayer.

“Guys, I _need evac,”_ Shiro pressed. His grip tightened around Pidge’s legs as she coughed wetly. “Pidge is injured and isn’t going to make it if we wait much longer.”

“Wait, what?!” Shiro could hear the panic in Lance’s voice. “What happened?!”

“Sentry happened,” Shiro said. “She’s bleeding out internally and will _die_ if-” He cut himself off. His heart skipped a horrified beat as he fully realized the implications of what he just said.

_Pidge was dying._

Shiro felt like vomiting.

When they had first gone through the wormhole that took them to the other side of the universe, Shiro had made a promise to himself. He’d said that he wouldn’t lose this crew like he had lost the last one, that he would do everything in his power to see to it that these kids got home in one piece. That they would see their families again, be able to live out the rest of their lives in peace. He had promised to _protect them._

If Pidge died here, in his arms, he would have broken that promise.

Shiro’s head swam as Pidge whimpered in his arms.

They were children, playing the part of soldiers. Pawns on a chessboard that would decide the fate of the entire universe. They were caught in a war that wasn’t their doing, playing a charade that would end in two ways: victory or death. Like the Galra motto that every commander seemed so adamant about.

They were _children._ With a very real possibility of meeting an end out here, dying in obscurity. They wouldn’t see their families again. They would never stand in the rain, see the boundless oceans, or experience the joys of just being a _child._

Hot tears stung at Shiro’s eyes. If Pidge died here today, then her blood would be on his hands. He was the one that decided ultimately to send them into this war. He was their leader, the one they turned to for advice and battle plans. He had sealed their fates as soon as he had come hurtling back to Earth in a Galra craft.

“I’m coming down for pickup,” Hunk’s voice, clipped and scared in a way Shiro had never heard before, brought him back from the brink of full-on panic. Pidge had shut her eyes again, her breathing speeding up. Shiro wondered how much had bled out, and wished he had some way of knowing.

The Yellow Lion descended from above. Streaks of blue and red in the sky above indicated Lance and Keith were still in the throes of battle.

Yellow landed with enough force to send dust rising in her wake. She knelt, leaning forwards with her maw opening wide. Shiro all but ran inside, breathing in the clean fresh air. It was a much-appreciated contrast from the stuffy atmosphere of the planet, and he all but relished in it on his way to the cockpit. Yellow rumbled, nearly throwing Shiro off balance, as she rose into the air. The doors slid open, revealing Hunk standing by the pilot’s chair. He’d put Yellow in the equivalent of autopilot mode, trusting his lion to maneuver them safely back to the Castle.

“We need to get her armor off,” Hunk said, wasting no time. He led Shiro to the back of the lion, where he had clearly set up some sort of sleeping situation. Shiro tried not to think about Hunk sleeping alone in his lion late at night and instead favored settling Pidge in the thick yellow blankets. The two of them set about removing the heavy armor, Hunk starting with the kneepads and Shiro pulling the helmet off as delicately as he dared.

Pidge flinched as the visor broke fully, glass tinkling into her face. Shiro brushed it off as best he could, wincing as a few shards cut her forehead and the area around her eyes. Hunk glanced up, in the middle of unstrapping all of the white armor pieces connected to her arms. Together, they hefted the chest plate over her head, while Pidge cried out as they forced her to sit up.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro murmured as Hunk cut away at the flight suit around her stomach, practically ripping away the stretchy material.

Pidge’s abdomen itself nearly made Shiro hurl. It was a wash of red, steadily growing darker towards the center, turning almost brown. The area around the wound was a sickening yellow, spreading the length of her side and disappearing behind her back. Hunk let out a sharp gasp.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s bad.”

“How bad?” Shiro silently thanked Hunk’s almost encyclopedic knowledge of what they had taught in the Garrison medical classes as he asked. He sure as hell didn’t remember them.

“The impact point was here,” Hunk pointed to the dark red stain on the left side of Pidge’s belly-button. Shiro was relieved he didn’t touch the wound; he was afraid if they did Pidge would scream, and he never wanted to hear a sound so painful come from her mouth ever again. “It seems like the longer she bled, the more staining there was. If we don’t get her to a pod soon…” He trailed off, unable to finish the thought. He didn’t need to. Shiro was already well-aware of the consequences, should they fail.

“Keith, Lance,” Shiro spoke into the comms. “Pull back to the castle, now. This is an emergency and we’ll need all hands on deck.”

“Roger,” Keith said.

“On our way,” Lance chimed in. Their voices were both unusually grave, and the playful banter that echoed between them normally gone, leaving the comms silent.

Yellow landed in her hangar. Shiro gathered Pidge into his arms (he tried to ignore the way she whimpered, or the way the horrifying mark on her stomach twisted and _grew_ ever so slightly with the motion) and followed Hunk down towards the med-bay.

Coran was already inside, having listened to the desperate exchange over the comms. He took Pidge from their care, shooing them from the room so he could work in peace. Shiro let out an anxious breath, realizing just how tense his shoulders were as the doors slid closed behind them.

Hunk gave Shiro a glance but didn’t say anything. Instead, he chose to walk down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen, likely to cook up a storm to relieve some of the stress.

Shiro, on the other hand, plopped himself down at the opposite side of the door and waited.

 

“Pidge.”

Pidge tilted her head ever so slightly to show she was listening as Shiro approached. It had been a full week since the incident, and Pidge was already hard at work decoding the intel that she had downloaded from the Galra base. She’d gone straight from the med-bay to her mess of a room, leaving no time to confront what had happened back there.

Shiro wasn’t going to have any of it.

He had to talk to her, talk about what happened and how they could keep away from such a situation in the future. It wasn’t a topic Pidge couldn’t avoid forever, and Shiro knew that she knew it as well as he.

“We need to talk.”

Pidge lifted her eyes from her laptop, fingers still clicking away at the keys. The white flash drive was sticking out of one of the USB ports, glinting with a calming teal light.

“I’m kind of busy Shiro,” she said, lifting one hand off the keyboard to gesture around her. “So if we could just have this conversation later-”

“ _Katie.”_

Shiro’s use of her real name made Pidge’s shoulders slump. She moved her laptop off of her legs and set it on the pillow, glancing up meekly to meet Shiro’s gaze. His expression softened and he gave her a reassuring smile.

“Can I sit?” He asked.

“Go for it,” Pidge lifted her hands in surrender. Shiro sank down onto the edge of the bed, almost half hanging off of it. He kept his hands in his lap, observing Pidge. He tried not to think about what had happened, the awful red bruise spreading across the length of her stomach, mottled and yellow. She’d nearly died. Coran said she had lost more than half of her blood by the time they finally got her in a pod.

That had scared Shiro more than anything. The fact that if they had waited even a moment longer, they would have been on the search for another Green Paladin right now. Perhaps even heading back to Earth to deliver the body to the Holts and give her a proper burial.

“You scared me back there,” Shiro said. He tried to adopt his normal fatherly tone, but it came out weaker than he had intended. Pidge glanced at him and Shiro met her gaze. He couldn’t sugar-coat things. Not this time. Not after what they had just been through. Shiro was going to lay his emotions bare for Pidge to see, and let her pick and choose what she wanted to discuss. “You could have died. You were very close to it.”

Pidge pursed her lips. “I know.”

“I understand what happened wasn’t your fault,” Shiro continued. “But you have to understand that there were some real consequences there. You can’t just avoid talking about this, you have to come out and be able to talk with the rest of us openly about-”

“It’s what we do though,” Pidge cut across him. “Isn’t it?” She tilted her eyebrows, clearly asking him a question. Taken aback, Shiro could only gape at her like a fish out of water.

“What?”

“We’re soldiers, Shiro,” Pidge splayed her fingers across the soft green blanket underneath her. “Things like this are bound to happen. Like when you almost died and Lance called Blue and Black to him to save you. I’m not the first to almost die. I won’t be the last.”

Shiro swallowed. Lance had said something similar after his own near-death experience. He understood his place in the universe. It appeared Pidge was starting to see it too. A child soldier, a small part of something much bigger that was out of her control. 

They were so,  _so_ young...

Instead of responding, Shiro leaned forward to pull Pidge into his arms. She let out a quiet squeak of surprise that was muffled by his shoulder as Shiro cradled her close to his chest. Their ragtag space family was being torn and tested at the seams every single day that they fought the Galra. There were new twists at every turn, new variables added to the equation every time they took up the mantle of Paladin and worked together to form Voltron. There were always going to be risks involved.

Shiro just wished all of them weren’t quite so _deadly._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aghh another chapter done! I hope you guys enjoyed this, it was fun to write! 
> 
> The specific kind of internal bleeding Pidge is suffering from is called Cullen's Sign (there's some pretty graphic stuff in the images, _oof_ ) and I know that technically, bruising that severe isn't supposed to show up for 24-36 hours. I took some liberties with it though, considering how hard Pidge was hit (it was enough to crack her visor, after all) it's not far off to believe severe bruising would have occurred in between the thirty minutes to an hour it took for Shiro and Hunk to observe the wound.
> 
> I hope I wrote Shiro okay! He and Allura are the two points of views that I have the most trouble writing. I just can't get Allura's speech pattern right, and Shiro has a sense of justice/leadership that I can't replicate fully. I hope it was okay regardless! 
> 
> Next chapter we cover Keith! Should be fun, right? 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! The feedback so far has been incredible, and I love all of you!! <3 Please, drop a comment/kudo if you liked it, feedback means the world to me. Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> You can find my Tumblr [here](https://chocolatechip-master.tumblr.com/) so if there's a certain one-shot/topic that you want me to write, just throw an ask into my inbox! :D


	3. He Needs You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was too small to lift Keith on her own. He had to help her in order for her to get him to a safe spot to call for backup. Or at least someone who had some sort of medical knowledge. Like Hunk.
> 
>  _God,_ Pidge wished it were Hunk here instead of her. He’d be able to help Keith, get him behind cover in no time. Pidge could not. She was the smallest Paladin, useful for her brains and hacking. She wasn’t cut out for fighting, much less dragging an injured teammate across a raging battlefield. Pidge had never felt weaker than at this very moment, watching Keith writhe in a pool of his own blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Hearing Keith scream - actually scream in pure agony - was the worst thing Pidge had ever heard.

Immediately afterward she retracted her first statement, because seeing Keith impaled on a large Galran sword while a firefight raged around them was _infinitely_ worse.

Keith choked on blood, slumping forward. The Galran Commander smirked, triumph in his gaze as he pulled his weapon out. Keith fell forwards, falling onto the ground with his wound pressed against the rocks. Any other person would have at least cried out at the impact. Keith did not move.  

Ice flooded Pidge’s veins. The image of Keith, so close and yet so far, lying with blood pooling underneath him, was imprinted in her mind. Too much blood, not enough time.

The Galran commander lifted his blood-soaked blade to finish the job. Keith craned his neck weakly to watch, one eye shut and his expression pained. Something in his expression was wrong. It was _off._

_Acceptance._

The Galran’s sword came down. Pidge saw red.

Her katar materialized in her hand without her consciously willing her bayard into existence. She leapt forwards, driving her weapon into a chink in the Galran’s armor. He paused, inches from the back of Keith’s blood-soaked armor, to look at her in vague surprise and annoyance. Pidge knew the initial blow with her tiny weapon would not hurt.

It was what would come after that would.

Pidge snarled and twisted her bayard. It sank into Galra flesh with an awful squish, one that made her stomach rebel. She ignored it, tightening her grip around the katar and turning it ever so slightly to the left. It clicked and a stream of electricity raced from the bottom of the bayard to the tip, entering the Galra's bloodstream.

The Galra screamed at once, his sword dropping harmlessly to the ground by Keith’s head. He writhed as Pidge forced her small body closer, pushing both hands into the handle of her katar. She hoped _venomously_ that the electric current was turning everything in the commander’s body to ash. He let out a pained roar and twitched, losing his footing and falling to the ground. Pidge released the electricity, standing over her downed foe with purple blood smearing the tip of her katar. She held her breath, waiting for a tick. Silently daring the commander to move again.

He didn’t.

Pidge released her grip on her bayard, allowing it to melt into light. She rushed to Keith’s side and he let out a low groan underneath her. His fist was balled up to his stomach, trying in vain to stem the blood flow.

“P-Pidge,” he whispered, voice cracking.

“Shh,” Pidge said, trying to keep herself from full-blown panicking. Freaking out would only lead to Keith bleeding out on her. She could _not_ let that happen. “Can you stand? We need to get you to cover.”

Keith let out a quiet whimper, shifting his other arm. He placed his hand on the dirt and pushed, letting out a pained cry and falling back with an awful splash into the blood. Pidge swallowed back another wave of nausea, and with it the increasing panic.

She was too small to lift Keith on her own. He had to help her in order for her to get him to a safe spot to call for backup. Or at least someone who had some sort of medical knowledge. Like Hunk.

 _God,_ Pidge wished it were Hunk here instead of her. He’d be able to help Keith, get him behind cover in no time. Pidge could not. She was the smallest Paladin, useful for her brains and hacking. She wasn’t cut out for fighting, much less dragging an injured teammate across a raging battlefield. Pidge had never felt weaker than at this very moment, watching Keith writhe in a pool of his own blood.

An explosion from the air made Pidge look up. Blue spun into view neatly, pouncing on a Galra drone and ripping it to shreds with her claws. Shrapnel rained down upon them and Pidge raised her shield above her to protect them. Around them, the remains of a hard-fought battle with a few remaining straggling sentries littered the desert. Pidge had to think fast, before anything worse could happen. 

_Think fast, Pidge._

“ _Fuck,”_ she said.

Keith pushed himself into a sitting position. Pidge envied his strength for a moment, but ignored it in favor of grabbing his arm and pulling it over her shoulder. He let out a whimper as she helped him to his feet. Blood pooled from Keith’s wound, through his fingers and dripped sickeningly over his legs and onto the ground. Pidge tore her gaze away from it and looked forwards, setting her gaze towards an outcropping of rocks. It was stacked high and would have to do for cover while she radioed Hunk for some kind of medical backup.

“Okay, Keith,” she said. Keith’s tired eyes tried to find hers, but he ended up hanging his head with a tired moan. “Work with me here, okay? We’re going to get you to shelter. I’ll call Hunk. He’s got the medical know-how to fix you. Okay?”

“Mkay…” Keith could only say. He dragged his feet, kicking up dirt with every unsteady step towards the outcropping. Pidge pulled him behind it, letting Keith slump to the ground with a quiet gasp of pain.

“Hunk?” Pidge spoke into the comms. “Hunk, please are you there?” There was terrifying static for a moment too long. Pidge glanced back at Keith, who had rolled his head backward and had his eyes squeezed shut.

“I’m here,” Hunk said. Pidge almost sobbed from relief at the sound of his voice. “Good timing, Pidge, we were just about to ask for a status update. Things are pretty much under control up here-”

“Keith is hurt,” Pidge cut across him, glancing down the Red Paladin before her. She knelt at his side, watching his hands curl and uncurl around his wound. Pidge didn’t want to look into the injury, afraid of what she would see. Ripped organs perhaps? Maybe the mangled remains of his intestines.

“How badly?” Hunk’s voice had gone hard.

“Very,” Pidge almost whispered. “We took out the Galra Commander like we were supposed to but...not before he got the jump on Keith.”

“He got the jump on Keith?” Shiro’s voice was scared in a way Pidge had never heard before. Not even when she was internally bleeding in his arms, although she had to admit her memories from that time were hazy.

“He stabbed him,” Pidge whispered. Shiro’s sharp intake of air was heart-wrenching and Pidge reached out instinctively to take Keith’s hand, squeezing it tightly. He blinked his tired eyes open, fixing his gaze on her with difficulty. “Stay awake,” she urged. “Please…”

“I’m on my way,” Hunk said. “Give me two minutes.”

“Two minutes,” Pidge said. She started ticking down the seconds, hoping they would pass by like a blur. “Got it.” She switched off her comms then, giving Keith her undivided attention.

His hand had now fallen to his side, limp and almost lifeless, save for the slight twitch of his fingers. His chin rested against his chest plate, his hair hanging limply in his eyes. He looked so small, so unlike the Keith that Pidge was used to. It was scary. She glanced down at the gaping hole in his stomach. She leaned forwards, counting the seconds still in her head, reaching out.

“Hunk will be here soon,” she whispered. _One minute forty two seconds,_ if she was being exact. “I…” She glanced down at the wound. The edges of his skin had been marred and Pidge was going to be _very_ surprised if the injury didn’t end up scarring over. “I’m going to try and stop the bleeding, okay?” she said, hating the words as they came out of her mouth. She didn’t have anything to cover the wound so she’d have to rely on her hands. “This will hurt.” She warned.

Keith didn’t give any indication that he had heard. Pidge leaned forwards, swallowing down the bile clawing its way up her throat and pressed both hands down on top of the wound. Keith’s eyes flew open and he screamed, blood gurgling in his throat. Pidge winced, but didn’t move her hand. She’d much rather have Keith awake and in pain then unconscious and _dead._

_One minute, fifteen seconds._

Tears prickled at Pidge’s eyes. Keith was now breathing shallowly, his fingers grasping at the rocks and squeezing them in his fist. He was clearly in gut-wrenching pain, but there was nothing else Pidge could do.

It wasn’t _fair._

None of this was. Pidge hadn’t asked to be a soldier in a war that wasn’t her doing. She hadn’t asked to be thrown into space in the head of an alien warship. She hadn’t _asked_ to be sitting on a distant planet, trying to keep her teammate - her _brother_ \- from bleeding out from a stab wound. 

All she had ever wanted was to live happily with Matt and her father. To explore the stars with them and a team of her own, never straying too far beyond the Milky Way. It was her dream, of course, to discover and understand the unknown, but she never wanted _this._ So far away from home, she couldn’t make out the stars. In one unfamiliar planet after another.

Sometimes, Pidge lay awake at night, wishing she were at home. Wishing she had never gone up to the roof that night and had gone along with Lance and Hunk to save Shiro. She should have stayed in her dorm, typing the night away. But her curiosity was insatiable. The need to know just exactly _what_ this Voltron was and _what_ had fallen from the sky unable to keep her from exploring.

She supposed she was paying the price for her curiosity now.

_Fifty-eight seconds._

“Come on Hunk,” she whispered, applying more pressure to the wound. Her voice broke as Keith let out another sharp cry. He gave her a look, half desperate, half agonized, and Pidge bit her lip. She hoped Keith would forgive her for putting him through more pain than he already was in.

Keith’s wound wasn’t fair either. Keith, of anyone, deserved to live his life away from the pain of reality. Somewhere with someone he trusted by his side, in a quiet secluded cabin on Earth. He didn’t deserve to die out here, without ever finding his mother or discovering his true origins.

_This wasn’t fucking fair._

Pidge choked out a sob. Her fingers curled at the edges, dipping into the worst of Keith’s wound. She was almost pulling the broken skin together at this point. Keith let out a scream again and Pidge immediately stopped. She didn’t want to put him through any more pain than she had already.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Hang in there, Keith.”

_Thirty-two seconds._

What had Pidge done to deserve this? What had she done that had warranted watching someone she cared about die in front of her? Was she really that terrible of a person that the world wanted to punish her for it?

“Keith,” Pidge raised her gaze. Keith looked at her, tears that before this, Pidge would have sworn she’d never see in his eyes. He was in _so much pain._ Pidge could sympathize. She thought she was going to die from the sheer agony of bleeding out internally if the dizziness didn’t get to her first. “Stay awake.”

“...nna…” Keith’s whine came out. Pidge could only guess at what he had attempted to say and she cast around for something to Keith to grip onto. Something to keep his consciousness from slipping too far out of his grasp.

“Pidge,” Shiro said. “How’s Keith?”

Pidge didn’t answer, feeling like she had been slapped. The answer she was looking for was right there, in the form of their leader who had been there for Keith his entire life. Keith needed Shiro just as much as Shiro needed him.

Pidge raised her gaze to Keith’s again. “Shiro needs you, Keith. Okay? He needs you.”

“...iro…” Keith whispered.

“Yeah,” Pidge bit her lip harshly. Blood peppered her tongue and she winced at the coppery taste. “Yeah, Shiro. He needs you to stay awake, okay? You need him, he needs you. Don’t you dare die on me, okay?!”

_Ten seconds._

Keith coughed in response. Blood flowed anew between Pidge’s gloves and she pitied Coran for a moment, who would have to wash the blood out of her flight suit.

Pidge was counting down the last of the seconds in her head when Yellow flew overhead. She landed with a heavy thud on the ground, resting her jaw on the ground and opening wide. A moment later, Hunk practically flew out, a first-aid kit in hand. He dropped to his knees on the other side of Keith, fumbling for the clasps of the box in his hand.

Pidge watched him, her hands still pressed firmly to Keith’s stab wound. Keith had dull amethyst eyes fixed on Hunk as he worked, pulling out a hefty bottle of Altean disinfectant and a roll of bandages.

“Move your hands, Pidge,” Hunk said, withdrawing a pair of medical scissors from within the first aid kit. Pidge did as she was told, watching helplessly as Hunk cut away at Keith’s flight suit, pulling it away and throwing it aside. He applied disinfectant as fast and cleanly as he dared (Pidge tried to ignore Keith’s pained whimpers as Hunk worked) and wrapped the wound messily.

“Coran would have done better,” Hunk watched as red seeped through the bandages. His fingers were covered in blood, staining his own flight suit a grisly scarlet. “We’ll have to wait until we get back to the castle until we can bandage it properly.”

Pidge nodded. “Thanks, Hunk…” Her shoulders slumped in relief. Hunk scooped Keith into his arms (the Red Paladin tried protesting tiredly, but ended up crying out in pain every time he moved more than two inches) and hurried back into Yellow.

Pidge followed as Hunk tucked Keith into his blanket fort, wrapping yellow blankets around Keith and glancing up as Pidge entered the bay area.

“I’m going to pilot Yellow back to the castle,” he said. “Watch over Keith for me, okay? Don’t let him fall asleep.”

“I won’t,” Pidge said firmly. She glanced at Keith, nestled quite adorably in a layer of blankets, and set her resolve. She was not going to fail him a second time. She had let him get stabbed.

But she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him die.

She took a seat next to Hunk’s blanket fort as the Yellow Paladin vanished into the cockpit. She reached out for Keith’s hand and squeezed. He blinked at her, his free hand clearly grasping at his wound under his blanket.

“Stay awake,” she urged.

“...For...iro…” He whispered hoarsely.

“For Shiro,” Pidge agreed.

True to his word, Keith kept his eyes open the entire ride back to the castle. He even managed to the medbay, where Coran started setting up his things to perform stitches, as the pods were out of commision for the time being, due to a power fluctuation in the Castle’s core a few weeks back.

It wasn’t until Keith laid eyes upon his best friend - his brother - that he slipped away into the realm of unconsciousness.

Pidge stood outside of the room while Coran and Hunk set to work. Hunk’s hand were too shaky to perform the actual stitches, so he was only there to remind Coran of human anatomy and what to avoid while he worked.

Shiro’s face was stormy. Pidge couldn’t read his expression as he stared at the door, his shoulders tense. Lance glanced at her from around their leader and they shared a single concerned look.

Shiro didn’t move from his spot in front of the door until Coran gave them the okay to come in.

 

Keith hissed in pain.

Dropping the tablet he had been using was by far the most painful thing he’d been through since he had been stabbed. Pidge watched as he fumbled for it across the lounge, his fingers barely not long enough to pick it up. He was about to get up when Pidge crossed the room and picked it up for him, extending it towards him.

Keith blinked up at her. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Pidge’s gaze shot to his stomach. “How are you feeling.”

“Better,” Keith said. He winced as he rested his head against the pillows. “Shiro’s been doting on me since I woke up and it’s getting a bit annoying, but other than that-”

“No,” Pidge said. “Mentally. How are you doing?” Keith paused. Something flickered in his amethyst gaze and he smiled a bit ruefully.

“Tired,” he said. “I...don’t even really know what I’m supposed to feel. I thought I was going to _die,_ Pidge. I was _ready_ to die. A year ago, I couldn’t even say that I would even think about dying without getting scared out of my mind. And now…” he paused, teasing his bottom lip with his teeth. Pidge sighed, hunching her shoulders. She understood him, more than he probably knew.

“This whole thing…” She whispered. “The war, us being Paladins... _sucks.”_

Keith laughed, instantly making a face like he regretted it. “Well said," he said sarcastically. Pidge gave him a look.

“You know what I mean,” she said. “I don’t hate it. I love being a Paladin, it’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. But it’s just not...fair. We always put our lives on the line and nearly die because of it.”

“Yeah,” Keith leaned his head back, his hair a messy halo around his head. “It’s not fair at all. But...we’re the only ones who will do it. The only ones that _can_ do it.”

Pidge sighed, knowing Keith had a point. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. Just...next time, don’t almost die on me.” Keith frowned at her, pinching his eyebrows together. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again, deciding to say something else. A teasing grin was now pulling at the edges of his lips.

“No promises.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayooo! I was worried I wouldn't get an update out this Friday, but I made it! Just in time too! Unfortunately, _Sun_ probably won't get an update this week. I'm crazy busy this weekend, but I'll be sure to update next Saturday! Unless I manage to pull off a miracle. 
> 
> Let's hope for the miracle, hm? 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I rarely write from Pidge's point of view, and I hope I got her character down okay. I also hope that beginning part wasn't too rough for some of you, I know it was a bit graphic. :p I'm sorry it's so short too - I meant for it to be longer but that didn't end up working out, sadly. 
> 
> Next chapter, Hunk faces peril while Keith watches helplessly. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Leave a comment/kudos if you did, I absolutely adore feedback! It means the world to me!


	4. We Need You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith drew in a deep breath that sounded deafening to his own ears, intending for it to be his last. Then, just before he closed his eyes, something even more horrifying than Death’s mottled hand greeted him.
> 
> A shape. Human, large and armored in white and yellow.
> 
>  
> 
> _Hunk._
> 
>  
> 
> Keith reached out, Hunk’s name a breath away. _No,_ he wanted to say. _This isn’t right._
> 
>  
> 
> And the bomb exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't beta-read, so all mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Keith’s shield was too small.

He huddled behind it, hunched to make himself as small as possible. Lasers and shrapnel pelted into the surface, sending ripples through the Altean technology. He winced, the heat from the other shots searing his face.

To his left, Hunk held down the fort with covering fire. He had his head peeked over a crumbling wall, sending yellow blasts into the sentry army beyond their position. Above them, Lance sniped with deadly accuracy, while Shiro and Pidge escorted former Galran work prisoners into the holding bay of the Black Lion a little further behind them.

“We have to fall back!” Lance reported. “There’s more still coming! We’ll be overwhelmed!”

“We can’t go back farther!” Keith retorted. “Shiro and Pidge are still back there! They’re not done! We have to hold _here!”_

“Just a few more ticks!” Pidge said. She sounded winded and tired. They all were, honestly. They'd been fighting since early morning on this planet, and now three moons were starting to reach their peak in the sky speckled with stars. “We’ve just got one more cell to clear out and we’re gone!”

“Good!” Hunk said. “I don’t know if bayards have a bullet limit or not, but mine definitely can’t hold out for much longer!” Keith had to agree. His sword was getting heavier in his hand, and he couldn’t tell whether or not it was from exhaustion or it had been in its physical form for too long.

Could that even happen?

_Focus._

Keith tucked and rolled, his shield vanishing in a flash of light. Bullets whizzed past him, sentries falling to the ground as Lance and Hunk covered his escape into a better defensive position. Keith pulled himself up and something _pulled_ in his foot. He hissed, his hand moving to grip his ankle. He’d rolled wrong and twisted it. A dumb mistake.

“This isn’t happening, guys!” Lance said. “There are too many of them for us to take down at once. We have to pull back!”

Keith risked a glance over the wall he had ducked behind. Lance had a point, now that Keith had the chance to really observe the battlefield. He hadn’t noticed, being trapped behind his shield and slicing through sentries for all he was worth, but for every sentry that went down, another five took its place. This was turning almost impossible far too quickly.

“All right,” Shiro said. “Pull back as far as you can. Pidge and I are almost done. Hang in there.” Keith - hesitating for only a moment - turned heel and ran. Hunk did the same out of the corner of his eye and he saw Lance sprinting with his rifle in hand from his position on the high ground.

The Lions were in view before Keith finally decided to stop and turn around. They could hold the army here. Everything would work out fine. Or rather, it _would_ have been fine, if one of the sentries hadn’t thrown a bomb.

Keith saw it in what felt like slow motion. A smoking heap of metal that was clearly made of explosive materials was tossed towards him. He wasn’t going to be able to get his shield up fast enough to block it. By the time he did, it would be too late. Keith took a deep breath, accepting his fate for the second time. He was going to die. Out away from home, away from the Earth that held nothing for him, and on a foreign planet fighting for people that had been enslaved their whole lives.

He’d met death once before. He could do it again.

_It was like getting stabbed all over again._

Keith drew in a deep breath that sounded deafening to his own ears, intending for it to be his last. Then, just before he closed his eyes, something even more horrifying than Death’s mottled hand greeted him.

A shape. Human, large and armored in white and yellow.

_Hunk._

Keith reached out, Hunk’s name a breath away. _No,_ he wanted to say. _This isn’t right._

And the bomb exploded.

Hunk flew backward, slamming into Keith. They practically blasted through the war-stricken air, the force of the bomb enough to make the bayard fly from Keith’s hand. His head hit the ground first, taking his entire weight on his neck for a brief painful second. He somersaulted backward, his body shifting so what hit the ground next was his arm (Keith _swore_ he heard something pop).

He rolled arm over arm, across the dirt and rocks. Eventually, though, he stopped, his head pounding and his neck muscles pulled in a way that they shouldn't have been. His sprained ankle pulsated with pain and he let out a quiet groan. For a moment, he lay there with his ears buzzing and hardly able to think over the noise of the comms. The words were loud and incoherent. It was like the blast knocked all of Keith’s knowledge of the English language out the window. He let out another choked groan of pain.

Instead of looking around and hurting his already injured neck further, Keith chose to examine himself. His armor was scuffed, a large crack running through the plating on his legs, but nothing seemed broken or injured. He’d be sore and hurt like hell for about a week or two after this, but he was fine.

Thanks to Hunk.

_Hunk._

The name sent a surge of adrenaline up through Keith's spine. He let out a quiet gasp. Hunk had taken the full brunt of the blast and Keith couldn’t see Hunk in his direct line of sight. Was he okay?

Gathering up all his strength, Keith pushed himself into a sitting position. Continuing to ignore the screaming in his comms, he looked around desperately for any sign of yellow. To his immense relief - and luck - he spotted Hunk, just a little ways away, lying in a heap in the dirt.

Keith practically scrambled to his feet. His head pounded horribly at the motion, the sore muscles in his neck from the way he had landed screaming in protest as he swiveled it around to fix on his injured teammate. He ignored the injuries in favor of limping towards Hunk.

Hunk appeared okay from the back. His armor was covered in a fine layer of dirt, some rocks lodged in the chest plate from behind. But Keith knew that Hunk had taken the bomb from the front, not from behind. He was almost scared of what he would see, but he drew back the apprehension in favor of circling around to check on Hunk.

Keith had a very hard time keeping his lunch from coming up his throat.

Hunk lay on his side, eyes closed. The front of his armor was blown apart, horrible burn marks spread across the length of his chest. Blood was matted in his hair from a head injury, scarlet seeping from underneath his favorite bandanna. The burns themselves were awful, rivulets of crimson liquid seeping into a pool all around Hunk’s front.

“Oh _shit,”_ he breathed. “Hunk-” He dropped to his knees, rolling Hunk onto his back. Hunk groaned, his eyelids fluttering.

“Keith!”

Keith finally registered the panicked cry of his name in the comms. It was _Shiro_ who was calling him, and Keith did his best to listen through the ringing in his ears and the panic that was starting to make it hard to  _think._

Keith raised his head. The stars flickered above him as what appeared to be the Lions crushed the sentry army with all that they had in them. All but Blue and Yellow were in the air, protecting their downed comrades. Keith felt a smile twitch at the back of his head as he saw Red, acting of her own accord.

_Of course._

Red roared in the back of his head, as if in answer, and Keith winced at the loudness of it. _She's so stubborn._

Hunk groaned underneath him. His arm twitched, raising to cover the worst burn; a searing red line that drew a horrible trail of blood and peeled skin across his entire front.

“Keith! Are you and Hunk okay?!”

Keith heard Lance this time and flinched. Lance's best friend was dying in front of him. If Hunk died, it would be Keith’s fault. Lance would be left without his one anchor to home, to the Earth he so craved to go back to.

“I-I’m okay,” he said. He didn’t _fe_ _el_ okay, but at least he was in better shape than Hunk. The Yellow Paladin groaned as if reading Keith’s thoughts and his arm twitched again to cover the aching burns. “But Hunk he...he took the blast and he’s not doing good…”

“ _Oh Dios_ _mío_ _,”_ he heard Lance breathe. “I-I’m on my way-”

“Lance, we need you in the air,” came Shiro’s authoritative command. “Keith, can you call Red to you?”

Keith thought he could hardly summon even the smallest of communications between him and his Lion, but he croaked out an ‘okay’ and tried anyways. He reached out through the link, felt Red answer, but then Hunk _coughed_ and Keith’s concentration was broken.

It was so _wet_ and _tired_ that Keith immediately snapped his gaze down to the weakly stirring Paladin next to him. Hunk’s warm eyes were blinking open, confusion clear in his expression. His gaze fixed on Keith, and he blinked several times, as if he couldn’t really _see._

Keith’s heart nearly stopped when Hunk mouthed his name. He felt like crying when Hunk smiled. It was weak, without any of the normal Hunk pizzaz, but still held the same warmth. Even while dying, Hunk was insufferably pure.

“Hunk?” He breathed and Hunk blinked as if in answer. “Good. I-I’m going to call Red to us and we’ll get out of here. Okay?” Hunk nodded as best he could. Blood seeped into his ears, pooling in his antihelix and dripping sickeningly onto the ground. Keith tried not to think about how Hunk’s bandanna would be forever stained, and instead reached back to Red through their bond.

His call was weak, a ghost of what it should have been, but Red reached back. Grasped his quintessence firmly with a roar of her own in answer. Keith winced, watching as Red twisted in midair and shot down towards them.

Hunk had time to look up, to see the blur of Red, before she swallowed them whole. Then they were safe, tucked away in Red’s maw. Keith let himself relax as his Lion sent him repeated messages of _safe, safe, safe, alive, safe_ and he turned his gaze back to Hunk.

Hunk’s fingers were now gripping at the ruined skin on his chest, whimpering quietly as he tried to crane his neck to see the full extent of the damage. Keith pulled his hand away, propping him up against the metal and pulling Hunk’s helmet from his head. He took his own off, tossing it to the side to save himself the trouble of the distracting comms. Keith leaned forward, pressing his own palms to the wound to stem the blood flow. He had vaguely remembered Pidge doing the same to him when he had been stabbed, and while he couldn’t recall whether or not it helped, he at least thought it did.

There was a first-aid kit in Red’s cockpit, Keith knew, but Coran had changed his first aid-kit after his Galra heritage had been discovered. The usual antiseptics and medications didn’t appear to be working on him, and as such Coran had tailored them to Keith’s suddenly very specific needs. Anything Keith had there would not work on Hunk. They might even make it worse, for all Keith knew.

Hunk’s eyelids were fluttering. He was giving into the darkness that Keith was all too familiar with, flickering at the edges of his vision. That could _not_ happen. Knowing it would hurt, Keith pressed his hand down on Hunk’s wound. He let out a shrill cry, dull eyes fixing onto Keith’s.

“Stay awake,” he commanded. “I can’t have you dying on me. Not...not when we need you as badly as we do.” Hunk whimpered in response, blinking furiously. His eyes were strangely shiny, and Keith sincerely hoped Hunk wasn’t about to cry. He wasn’t sure he would be able to handle it, especially since he was probably the cause of Hunk’s tears.

Keith focused on keeping the blood from flowing in between his fingers as Hunk observed him. It was silent in Red’s maw, the quiet hum of ancient Altean machinery their only company.

This wasn’t fucking _fair._

Keith had nothing waiting for him back on Earth. The only person who he’d even be willing to go back to his home planet for was already _here_ with him. And the only way he’d ever want to go back was if anyone else in his rag-tag space family had decided to go home too.

There was nothing for him _there._ So why did Hunk deem him important enough to save? Important enough to throw his life on the line, when Keith had always been nothing more than a troublemaking orphan?

He wasn’t worth anyone’s lives. He never had been, and never would be.

This was _war._ If someone made a mistake, one as crucial as the one Keith had made, then the soldiers had to be ready to throw down the gauntlet, accept the teammate as good as dead and _move on._

_Damn Hunk and his generous heart._

But Keith didn’t mean that. He couldn’t not after what Hunk had almost sacrificed to save him. He’d almost given up a normal life. A chance to return to his worried family back on Earth.

“Why?” The words were ripped from Keith’s throat before he could stop them. “Why did you save me?” He looked up, only to see Hunk’s eyes closed. Even worse, Hunk was _smiling._

_Why was he smiling?!_

“Hey!” Keith’s tone was harsher than he had intended for it to be, but he was _scared._ “Hey, open your eyes! _Stay awake!”_

Hunk cracked his eyes open, that same strange smile still perched on his lips. It was lopsided, full of agony, but still _radiated_ Hunk. He opened his mouth as if to answer, to tell Keith _why_ he had almost given up his life for some troublemaking kid from the deserts of Texas, but nothing came out. Instead, he closed his mouth without saying anything, smiling gently at Keith. Like everything was going to be okay.

Only one person had ever smiled at Keith like that, and it had been his father. Just before he had gotten himself killed due to his own sheer stubbornness and natural chivalry.

Keith’s eyes were filling with tears before he could stop them. He cursed under his breath, averting his gaze so Hunk could not see, pressing down perhaps too hard on Hunk’s wound. Hunk’s breath hitched, but he didn’t protest or react, save for a twitch in his left thumb.

There was a thud as Red touched down in the hangar. She lowered her jaw, placing it squarely on the ground so her Paladin and his injured teammate wouldn’t go tumbling out from inside. Keith glanced at the white and teal lights that suddenly seemed _too_ bright to his pounding headache and stood shakily.

He had to get Hunk into a pod before he died and judging by the way Hunk’s eyes had finally slid closed, he didn’t have much time.

Keith still had a mission to accomplish.

 

Hunk’s bandanna was indeed stained.

Keith caught Hunk staring at it a few days following the incident. Keith had barely managed to drag Hunk to a pod, his vitals dangerously low by the time Coran was able to start it. Lance was beside himself with worry, sleeping next to his best friend’s pod while he healed rather than retiring to his room every night. Hunk had been in there for nearly a week before coming out. It had taken the first day to recuperate, but the next day Hunk was bust at work in the kitchen as usual.

Keith had gone to ask Hunk his status and if anything still hurt (Keith was for sure sore as hell, as he had refused to get in a pod for a few bruises and pulled muscles) when he saw Hunk staring sadly at the orange-turned-scarlet bandanna.

“Hunk?” Keith called out hesitantly. Hunk’s gaze snapped to him and he instantly pocketed the bandanna, throwing Keith a smile.

“Hey, Keith,” his voice was choked, like he was holding back tears. “What do you need?”

“Just...wanted to make sure you were okay,” Keith stepped into the kitchen. His gaze darted to Hunk’s pocket, a strange lump the only indication that Hunk’s bandanna was inside.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Hunk waved his hand dismissively. He picked up the Altean version of a whisk (it looked like a strange mix between a broom and an Earth whisk, but did the job ten times faster than the ones back home) and began to stir, with almost _too_ much vigor.

Keith, not one to beat around the bush, decided to jump right into what was clearly bothering Hunk. “We can get you a new one, you know.”

Hunk paused. “What?”

“Your bandanna,” Keith nodded to Hunk’s pocket. “We can get you a new one. Maybe you and Lance can convince Coran and Allura and we’ll take another visit to the Space Mall.”

Hunk smiled ruefully. “Am I that easy to read?”

“I saw you looking at it.”

Hunk sighed. He put the whisk down and reached into his pocket again, withdrawing the ruined bandanna. He pursed his lips, brushing his thumb against the fabric.

“It’s not that easy,” he said softly. “This was a gift from my dad, Keith. I can’t just...throw it away. You know?”

“Oh,” Keith winced, mentally berating himself or being so tactless. “I...didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” Hunk said. “I wouldn’t expect you to. I just...wish it wasn’t scarred by almost dying, if you get what I mean.” Keith nodded. He stepped around the corner to stand next to Hunk, who was now brushing against one of the red stains with his fingers.

“I...was meaning to ask you about that,” he said quietly. “I know I asked you in Red...but I think you were delirious with pain and-”

“You asked me why I saved you,” Hunk said without skipping a beat. Keith blinked at him, impressed. He had hardly remembered anything he had said after being stabbed, and the entire experience was just a blur. Hunk being able to remember what Keith had said in the spur of the moment, overcome by emotions was both endearing and embarrassing at the same time. It said a lot about Hunk’s naturally caring personality.

“Yeah,” Keith said. “I-I just-”

“I did it because I care about you, Keith.”

“H-Huh?” Keith blinked in surprise. Shiro was the only person who had ever said anything even _remotely_ close to what Hunk had just said. It took years for Shiro to even be able to say that, but Hunk had said it in a matter of months since they had met. Or perhaps it really had been years and being in space had messed up Keith’s construction of time.

Hunk smiled. “I care about you. Just like I care about Lance, Pidge, and Shiro. Allura and Coran, too. You’re all my family and I would do anything to keep you safe.”

“But…” Keith tried to protest. “Your _real_ family. The one back on Earth. You have to stay alive for them, right? You-”

“You said it yourself, Keith,” Hunk cut across him. “The team needs me. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but you’re right. You guys need me...and I need you. We’re a family now. And...even though I miss my mom and my dad, I have you guys. And that’s good too. So, I won’t let any of you die. Even if it kills me.”

“But you can’t _do_ that,” Keith said, almost desperately. “You can’t die! Not when…” he trailed off, unsure of what he was going to say in response. He couldn’t very well tell Hunk he couldn’t try to protect the team at the expense of his own life if that was what he _wanted._ Similarly, he couldn’t say that they didn’t matter when clearly, they meant so much to the Yellow Paladin.

Hunk smiled. “We’re family, Keith. This isn’t just about the war anymore. I...don’t want to see anyone else close to me get hurt. I’ve seen Shiro, Pidge, and you almost die. If I can stop that by doing it to myself...then that’s okay.”

“That’s not right,” Keith pursed his lips. “It hurts _us_ too, you know. Let us protect you too, once in a while. Okay?”

Hunk stared at him, clearly surprised. But it gave way soon enough to a gentle smile that teased his lips. It was warm, and unlike the one he had given Keith while he died in Red’s maw, it was _alive._

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't my proudest chapter, but let me take a minute to say that I absolutely adore the relationship between Hunk and Keith. Especially after season seven! The development there was phenomenal, and I hope we get more of that in the final season of the show. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Keith's point of view is fun to write from (Hence why I'm writing _Sun_ ) and I think he'd be the one to panic the most when it comes to a life-or-death situation where he's faced with a teammate almost dying on him. 
> 
> Next chapter is the finale - in which Lance's heartbeat goes still and Hunk is faced with the very real possibility of losing his best friend. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Leave a kudo/comment if you did, I adore reading feedback! It means the absolute universe to me! 
> 
> (P.S. All of your continued support is wonderful and I love each and every one of you!) 
> 
> You can find my Tumblr [here](https://chocolatechip-master.tumblr.com/) so if there's a certain one-shot/topic that you want me to write, just throw an ask into my inbox! :D


	5. I Need You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk hit the ground, his helmet smashing against the rubble first. He screamed, desperation clawing up his throat as he turned. _“Lance!”_
> 
> But Lance was gone. 
> 
> In his place was an enormous pile of rubble, one that would have crushed Hunk were it not for Lance. He let out a cry, trying to search when rubble began raining around him. One smashed hard into his back and he threw his head forward, the glass of his visor shattering as he hit the ground. He let out a cry of pain, armor splintering as the rocks continued raining around him. His mind whirled, guilt festering in his gut as he tried to claw his way where Lance had just been. 
> 
>  
> 
> _But Lance was gone._
> 
>  
> 
> And Hunk gave into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't beta read, so all mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Enjoy this final chapter!!

The building’s structural integrity was compromised.

Hunk didn’t need his wrist computer to tell him that, it was obvious. The enormous stone pillars that were holding the ruins up were about to collapse, the once magnificent dome crumbling away into nothing above him.

He had his gaze up to the ceiling, bits of rubble pelting his face and helmet. They weren’t big enough to hurt, but given a few years, maybe even weeks, and this entire structure would come down.

Hunk glanced over at Lance, who was running his hand carefully over a large square pillar in the center of the room. He whistled lowly, looking at the faded images of clearly an ancient alien battle that was waged here. The inhabitants of this planet (a race called Albi that Allura was almost desperate to gain an alliance with as their weapons were superior to almost all others, including the ancient Altean weapons, and she did not want that to fall into the Galra hands. Unfortunately, they were known to be cowardly and side with whoever would offer them the most protection) all looked at Hunk as he admired their old temple.

The Albi were human-like in body-shape, only their skin was maroon, and they had four arms, two from each side. Their ears were long and pointed and they had been very proud to point out that their hearing was superior to anyone else’s in the galaxy.

Lance put his and on his hips, turning to the Albi. “Impressive,” he said and Hunk could tell from his best friend’s tone that he was being honest.

The Albi Chief - a slightly more maroon one than the others named Upta - looked a bit smug as he moved to stand next to Lance. “Indeed. Our ancestors fought hard to liberate this place. It is only fitting we discuss the terms of our alliance here.”

“Of course,” Hunk said with a gracious smile.

“Voltron and the Galra have both made generous offers,” Upta said and Hunk was careful to mask the horror that piled in his gut. _So the Galra had already made attempts at an ‘alliance’ with the Albi._ They must have known Team Voltron would try to strike one of their own. “How can we be so sure that your conditions are what you say they are?”

Lance, to Hunk’s surprise, was the one who stepped forward. While he had complete faith in his friend’s social skills, Allura had been the one to almost _insist_ that Hunk take the reigns of this mission and do all the talking. The implications of it had made Hunk a tad bit upset on Lance’s behalf, but he knew better than to argue with Allura.

_Especially with this new Shiro calling the shots._

Lance produced a small white communication device from his pocket. It was the same one Allura gave to every single one of the planets that joined the Coalition and flashed a dazzling smile.

“This will allow you to contact us whenever you need it,” he said, showing it to the Albi. They tilted their heads curiously - almost like cats - as Lance showed it off. “It’ll send a distress beacon straight to the Castle of Lions and Voltron will be there as soon as possible.”

“I see…” Upta said, taking the communication device and turning it over in one of his many hands. “The Galra have offered us something similar and have even promised an entire fleet in our orbit to defend from outsiders.” He paused, sounding almost _hopeful_. “Will you offer a similar promise?”

Hunk winced at the same time Lance did. It did not go unnoticed by Upta. While the coalition had soldiers and funds to spare, it did not have time to be orbiting a planet on the outskirts of a galaxy. Most coalition members spent their time shepherding supplies from planet to planet and going on undercover intel missions. Hunk tried to imagine Pidge’s brother almost _babysitting_ an entire race of people too cowardly to defend themselves with their own god-like weapons and had to stop himself from smiling uncontrollably.

Matt would _hate_ that.

“That’s a question that would be better answered by Princess Allura,” Lance spoke, smoothly deflecting the question. “I’m sorry, Upta.” Lance glanced subtly at Hunk, giving him a clear look. He was being too quiet for it to be comfortable for the Albi anymore.

“Yes,” Hunk agreed almost too quickly. “We’re just messengers. We’re not sure of all the fine details.”

That was apparently the _wrong_ thing to say, judging by the way Upta’s expression darkened. “Then why would this...Princess Allura not come to meet us herself?”

Hunk winced. “Uh…”

“She’s currently negotiating the other coalition members to get supplies to your planet,” Lance said, smooth and confident as ever. Hunk felt his chest swell with pride at the Blue Paladin’s quick thinking. They’d have to deliver on that promise, but he was sure Allura wouldn’t mind if it scored them another ally in the coming fight against the Galra. “She was hoping we would be able to convince you to allow us to…” Lance paused. He glanced helplessly at Hunk, out of ideas.

“To land the Castle of Lions,” Hunk finished. “That way, we would be able to discuss terms over dinner served there.” Upta’s expression lightened considerably, though he was clearly more uncomfortable than when they had first landed in their lions. This was going downhill _fast._

Upta cast a glance to the stone pillar Lance was still idling by. “I see. Well...it appears the Galra and Voltron have many things in common with their terms of alliance…” He paused almost deliberating his next words. Hunk found himself following Upta’s gaze to the pillar. There was something embedded in there that he hadn’t noticed before. A strange black shape lodged in between the large crack in the center of the pole.

_What was that?_

Hunk suddenly felt very cold. Something wasn’t _right_ here.

“Yes, well,” Lance continued to speak, unaware of how _wrong_ everything suddenly felt. “We are fighting for the freedom of all the known universe. The Galra are playing you and won’t live up to their promises.” Hesitation flashed in Upta’s face for a split second and Lance’s pleasant peacemaking smile stretched a little bit wider.

Maybe he _had_ noticed something amiss...but thought he could amend it through words. Like Allura _wanted._ But the strange black box embedded in the pillar said otherwise, as did Hunk’s writhing instincts.

They had to get out. _Now, now, now._

“It’s been great,” Hunk said suddenly, unable to stop his tongue now. “But we should really get going and relay the rest of your terms to the Princess-”

“There is...one thing,” Upta interrupted Hunk, crystalline eyes fixing upon the Yellow Paladin. Something was definitely _wrong_ with that gaze now. Hunk tensed. “One thing that the Galra need in order for us to solidify our alliance.”

Lance’s smile faded. Hunk’s stomach turned into spaghetti.

“What’s that?” Lance asked, his hand drifting to his side. His finger twitched as Hunk went to do the same, holding his hand out to summon his bayard if needed.

This was all _wrong._

_Wrong, wrong, wrong._

Upta smiled wryly, withdrawing a thin black controller from the depths of his pocket. He held it in both hands, using another arm to hover above the almost comically large red button in the center. Hunk and Lance tensed, both afraid they had misread the situation and were about to ruin their chances of getting this alliance, but honestly, _when were they going to get it in the first place?_

“The Galra want…” Upta paused. For dramatic effect or because he was hesitating, Hunk wasn’t sure anymore. “Our protection...for the lives of the Paladins of Voltron.”

There was a flash of yellow and blue and both bayards burst into existence. The Albi all screeched, cowering back. Upta, to his credit, held strong through the obvious fear.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he sounded genuine. “But the Galra have made a better case...and I must preserve the legacy of my people.”

The next moments seemed to happen in slow motion. Lance and Hunk both burst into movement as one of Upta’s many thumbs came down on top of the button. It was pressed with a breathtaking air of finality, and Hunk felt like he was back on a war-torn battlefield, with a bomb in between him and Keith.

Upta threw the controller and turned on his spindly heel. He sprinted down the corridor, the Albi all dashing in his wake. Lance screamed something - in Spanish or English Hunk wasn’t sure - as the tiny black box in the pillar exploded.

Granted, it wasn’t as intense as an explosion as back then, but the heat seared Hunk’s back. He turned around, glancing at Lance for what he hoped wasn’t the last time because they _could_ get out of this, they _could,_ they _could, they could-_

The building began to crumble around them, enormous chunks of rubble smashing into the ground and shattering upon impact. Lance’s expression shifted, looking at something beyond Hunk, and then set into a fine line. He sprinted forward, towards Hunk, his long body colliding with the larger one and knocking him sideways.

“ _Look out!”_

Hunk hit the ground, his helmet smashing against the rubble first. He screamed, desperation clawing up his throat as he turned. _“Lance!”_

But Lance was gone.

In his place was an enormous pile of rubble, one that would have crushed Hunk were it not for Lance. He let out a cry, trying to search when rubble began raining around him. One smashed hard into his back and he threw his head forward, the glass of his visor shattering as he hit the ground. He let out a cry of pain, armor splintering as the rocks continued raining around him. His mind whirled, guilt festering in his gut as he tried to claw his way where Lance had just been.

_But Lance was gone._

And Hunk gave into the darkness.

 

Hunk’s head was _pounding._

He felt like he had been put through the wringer, with every bone in his body aching in protest as he tried to move. He let out a low moan of pain as the world spun as he opened his eyes. The building had thankfully stopped shaking and was now just a ruin, a few walls still standing. Hunk didn’t have time to wonder where Upta or the rest of the Albi had fled to. He had to find Lance.

_Lance was gone._

_No, he’s not,_ Hunk thought firmly, trying to banish the thought through his pounding headache. He raised his head, supporting himself on his thankfully still intact forearms, and squinted around.

The room was dark, air filled with the remnants of dust and debris from the collapse of the building. Enormous boulders obscured any sort of exit, but Hunk didn’t find himself caring about that. There were more important things at the moment. More importantly, _how long was he out?_ And _where was Lance?_

Hunk dragged himself forwards, dislodging the rocks that had been pressing against his back. He moaned lowly in the back of his throat, freeing his legs next. He didn’t want to chance standing, not while the world was spinning so violently that he felt like throwing up. Instead, he pulled himself across the floor, trying not to think about the shattered leg armor that was digging into his calves, or the crack in the yellow wrist piece.

He pulled himself to where he’d last seen Lance, reaching out to brush a few pieces of rock away. Desperation bubbled in his stomach, as he kept searching, using all of his diminished strength to push aside rocks that got increasingly harder to move.

“Come on,” he murmured, voice low and gravally. Broken in a way that an ancient building falling on your head could only bring out. “Where are you?”

Hunk shoved aside another rock, using both hands and his trembling shoulder to push it aside. It groaned as it slid across the floor, trailing marks until it rolled over with a thud. Hunk turned his attention back to the pile to see what the rock had uncovered, and felt his stomach bottom out.

Lance’s armor.

It was just half of his arm, sticking out from underneath the worst of the rubble, but it was better than nothing. Hunk reached for it, whimpering in pain as his muscles stretched and pulled. He wouldn’t be able to dig Lance out in this state, they’d just have to hold out until the team was able to receive the distress signal their armor automatically gave off upon being damaged.

“L-Lance…” Hunk’s fingers brushed the Blue Paladin’s. They did not so much as twitch. “ _Hermano…”_

 _Hermano._ Brother. It had been one of the first words Lance had taught Hunk to say in Spanish. It had become Lance unofficial nickname, something Hunk only used to really calm Lance down when he was getting particularly homesick.

Hunk turned Lance’s wrist over. He was sickened at how it went without protest, his elbow turning in a way it wasn’t supposed to. He fumbled for the armor, fingers clicking away the blue wrist piece. It fell away with a soft thud and Hunk wasted no time in pressing his finger to the inside of Lance’s wrist.

There was _nothing._

Hunk sobbed, dust lodging itself in his throat and making him choke. “ _Lance…”_

Lance did not stir.

So many horrible scenarios popped into Hunk’s head at what could have happened. Lance’s neck could have been snapped upon first impact. His spine could have broken, leaving him to be slowly crushed over the hours Hunk had been unconscious. He could have died on the first impact, a boulder smashing itself into the side of his head.

Hunk hated it because he _didn’t know._ He didn’t know what had killed his best friend. He didn’t know that the building was crumbling above him, about to crush his whole body, and he regretted not noticing - not _being there_ \- sooner.

_Lance was dead._

Hunk sobbed again, his finger still pressed hard into Lance’s glove. Hope flickered weakly in his chest. Maybe the flight suit was muffling the quiet heartbeat that showed that Lance was still alive, but he knew how unlikely that was. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious for.

He pressed his hand to the back of his helmet, activating his comms. A wash of static greeted him, intermingled with panicked voices. Hunk whimpered as he heard Shiro and Pidge’s voices, both calling words Hunk couldn’t understand.

Hunk wished he’d died along with Lance. That way, he wouldn’t have felt the crushing pain that now developed him, settling on his chest and slowly suffocating him. He could hardly breathe, the reminder that Lance was _gone_ and _wasn’t coming back_ hurt so _so_ badly.

“Lance…” he said again, as if saying his friend’s name would bring him back. “L-Lance... _por favor…Lance._ You can’t be...p-please...your family... _your family…”_ Hunk’s next gasp of air was shaky and laced with pain. His ribs burned. “Please you can’t... _you can’t…”_

Static buzzed in Hunk’s ears. He heard Pidge say something incomprehensible, possibly an order or a status update, but he heard his name through it.

“Hang...coming... _Hunk.”_

Hunk sobbed. _“Lance.”_

He tightened his grip around Lance’s limp hand, his finger almost crushing the Blue Paladin’s wrist. He drew in a ragged breath, dust and debris cascading down his windpipe, and tried not to full on break down into horrified sobs.

_Thump-thump._

Hunk gasped. He fumbled for Lance’s wrist with both hands, pressing his thumbs into the skin. He paused, holding his breath, waiting for the next tell-tale sign of _life._

_Thump-thump._

A heartbeat. There, against Lance’s wrist. Weak, too slow for it to be comfortable, but _there._ Lance was _alive._

Hunk let out a watery cry of relief. He pulled himself upwards, ignoring the way the world lurched dangerously to the left. His legs trembled, blood seeping from the gashes made by his armor. He bit his lip to mask his cry of pain and placed both hands on the large boulder that was blocking his path. He pressed with all his weight and it groaned, shifting sideways.

A rush of air above him on his next push made Hunk glance up. The Green Lion was soaring above him through the star-speckled sky. It was a glorious sight, one that Hunk had almost been dreading a few minutes ago because that had meant that he had to break the news that Lance was dead.

But he _wasn’t now._

Hunk had been so close - too close - to losing his one anchor to home. To the Earth both he and Lance craved to see again so badly. To see their families, envelop their little siblings in bone-crushing hugs and just _live again._

Hunk didn’t realize how much he _needed_ Lance. He needed his bright smiles, his dumb jokes, the awful pick-up lines he threw at Allura. Lance was one of a kind, and Hunk needed every minute he could with him.

The boulder groaned, shifting and rolling off of Lance’s prone body. Hunk almost collapsed on top of it, favoring instead to drop to his knees next to the mangled mess of blue armor. Green landed next to the destroyed building, Shiro and Pidge sprinting out of her open maw. Hunk leaned forward, rolling Lance over.

His shoulder was sagging strangely, both of his legs twisted in ways that they shouldn’t have. He’d likely almost broken every bone in his body, but the crushed armor around his neck had spared his neck and spine from being completely crushed. Hunk pulled Lance into his lap, letting out a cry of relief.

Lance was _alive._

It was evident from the soft, small breaths Lance breathed against his face. From the way his heart beat against his chest, pumping oxygen and blood all through his system.

_Lance was alive._

Hunk felt like he was in a daze as Shiro and Pidge arrived. Shiro wasted no time in gathering Lance into his arms, deftly ignoring the way Lance’s long limbs hung in ways they shouldn’t, and ran back to Green. Pidge helped Hunk stand, her small hand planted on his back.

Hunk all but collapsed in the cockpit, sitting with Lance’s head in his lap. He looked so small and battered, blood staining his face from a cut just above his eyebrow and matting in his hair. But he was _alive._

Hunk supposed that was what mattered when it came to them all. Every day it was a deadly dance for their lives, as they set out to accomplish what others had failed, what only they could do. They may have gotten grievously injured, but they had still come out on top against all odds. They survived far more than they should have, fought in a war that wasn’t fair, and despite being nothing but children, they lived. They came through together. As a family.

They were all still _alive._

And that was what _really_ mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's done! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and encouraging me to continue. All of your lovely comments were the inspiration that helped me sit down and finish this. While it's not a momentous project, it's still the first time I (mostly) adhered to an update schedule and was (mostly) able to update it on time! 
> 
> Speaking of which, let's talk about yesterday's update. I missed it because of a test I had to take that ate up much of my time and left me with zero time to edit the chapter and post it for your viewing pleasure. I posted an update on my tumblr yesterday regarding it, and because of this _Sun_ will also be getting a belated update, updating _tomorrow_ instead of today. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading! This chapter was a bit of a challenge to write, as I wanted a bit more background on what happened and how Lance and Hunk got into this situation in the first place (hence the existence of the Albi) and I think I did really well. I'm satisfied with the ending because it's open-ended enough to where canon events can fit with it, but also satisfying enough that it doesn't leave you guys hanging. 
> 
> Your feedback has been absolutely stellar, by the way. I could have never expected the response that this story got, and every one of you has been so kind and eager to read the nonsense I put out. The response to this story has been wonderful and I enjoyed every second of reading every one of your comments. 
> 
> I really really hope you enjoyed this final chapter! It was fun to write, and I think it came out very well. Leave a comment/kudos if you did! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! 
> 
> Want to stay updated on future Voltron fics? You can find my Tumblr [here](https://chocolatechip-master.tumblr.com/)! Hope to see you there! <3


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